Heavy on the Harris property the evening had descended; the smell of rain-soaked soil and residual tension from the prior altercation hung strong in the air. Her hands grasping the Legacy Locket, Joan sat by her bedroom window, as if it contained solution to the hurricane raging in her chest.
Alex had not communicated with her since the revelation.
"Am I your sister?" he inquired, voice frigid and eyes wide with treachery.
Then she had no responses; only fear, bewilderment, and the odd fluttering in her belly. The sort of flutter that was unfamiliar with a sister.
She watched as hours after, the thunder that lit up the heavens burst. Thunder shook its furious fists overhead. Her heartbeat raced in beat.
She murmured to herself, "the truth I need to know."
Just then she heard a quiet rap on the door.
"Joan?" her elder brother Davis, always more astute from the rest, asked.
With caution, she opened the door.
His voice subdued but insistent, he said: "You need to come with me."
"These things belong to you." About Alex... and Dad."
Her heart sank; what are you speaking of?
"No chance, only confidence."
Unable to avoid the noisy sections of the hardwood floor, they crept along the corridor. Davis took her down to the wine cellar—except they were not present for beverages. Behind an old oak shelf behind which he revealed a secret path neither Joan nor Alex had ever seen.
It led to a small tunnel lined with stones and illuminated by old lanterns.
"Davis, what's this?"
He said somberly, "Our family's secrets didn't just end with Alex; there is more. Things Mom and Dad never told us."
They appeared in a secret chamber—a personal library filled with old photos and dusty books. At the center of the space, a table was packed covered with closed papers, notebooks, and a tiny digital camera.
Davis added a flash. drive.
The projector hummed to life and showed a rough video. This happened 23 years ago.
A younger Mr. Harris showed on the screen, walking back feverishly.
Should someone come this means I have left or the truth can't remain buried any longer. Edward Harris is my name, and I'm twice father—to Alex and Joan. Only one of them, however, is aware of the truth…"
Joan's breath seized. "Indeed?"
Mr. Harris went on to say that Alex never intended to mature beyond our family. But I had to make a decision after a scandal concerning the Swan family, who were his mother's people. I settled with them. His name is gone from all official files; he's in a family friend's custody. I believed I was shielding them both.
In disgust, Joan shook her head.
"The Legacy Locket is the key," Mr. Harris said. "It provides complete DNA identification." The locket carries evidence should either Joan or Alex ever need some.
The monitor blinks off.
Joan staggered back, her hands quivering around the locket. Therefore we are siblings. That is fixed; no wishful imagination will alter it."
Davis whispered, "No, it is not that easy; I took the test."
Joan glanced upwards. "What?"
Using the core chip of the Locket, I tested the DNA from your hair and a thread from Alex's shirt. The outcome is also…"
Her pulse ceased. "What was it?".
"You two are not brothers."
Her mouth gaped.
"Half-cousins—that makes you cousins." Your father bore a siblingship to Alex's biological father. Your uncle had an affair with Alex's mother, Mrs. Swan. That's what started the disownment, the split, the family rift.
Joan sank onto the closest seat, her knees collapsing. So we are not going to be
"Nope. Not brothers. Yet, my blood is still interlocked."
Davis offered her printed DNA results.
Joan's fingers closed about it; her head was swirling. "I don't know what to feel."
"Feel whatever you have to," Davis remarked; you also have to understand something else. Another person who knows the truth… and they want to bring you down together."
Joan had to lead an auto pilot. "Who?" "Before Davis replied, a loud bang reverberated behind them down the tunnel.
They each leap footsteps leaving in bits Swiftly. Angry.
Hissing, Davis yanked her toward the side entrance.
Hearts pounding, they darted through the tunnel. Joan tightly grabbed the locket and DNA printout. The truth had changed—though peril still followed them.
It already opened when they came upon the surface exit, an ancient stone plate buried close to the garden wall.
Somebody had existed there.
Otherwise I was waiting.
Davis said, "Go to your room and conceal the locket." "We'll regroup; I'll find out who is responsible for this."
Joan nodded, chest heaving. "Pay attention."
I always will.
She raced onto the property, into the shadows.
But she felt it when she slipped back into her room and closed the door behind her.
Presence.
Turning gradually, there he stood.
Dr. Alex.
Eyes burning with something inscrutable, rain soaked.
With a low, shaking voice, he said, "You knew; you lied to me."
Joan swallowed. "I didn not." Since tonight, not."
He came a little closer. "Do you know how it feels to think you love someone, only to discover that she may be your sister?"
She shouted, "You aren't my brother! I am half-cousins; take a look at the results!"
He came to a stop. "Que?"
She passed the printout to him.
He read it once. Afterward twice. His hands shook as he held the paper.
He said, "This wasn't what I wanted to be true, but neither was it a lie."
Joan moved closer. "We still have a shot if we wish for it."
He looked her in her eyes.
And then his face changed without warning.
He looked at the glass behind her.
He said softly, "Joan, get down."
"What?"
With a loud, sharp shot the window cracked inward. Glass poured down upon them.
Using his body, Alex threw her to the floor and shielded it.
There was still another shot.
After that, it was quiet.
Outside the broken window, a tall, hooded figure came out from garden shadows holding a long-range gun.
Joan turned white with terror as the shooter dropped the pistol and raised the hood.
It was Chelsea Swan.
Alex's cousin
Joan's shadow competitor
She smiles as well.
Joan and Alex are at last free from the lie of being siblings, but as they start to grasp the reality, a fresh foe from the family rises who will go to lengths to separate them.